


It's better to burn

by GayForWerewolves



Series: So in lust with you [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fili is a wee bit of a creep in this, M/M, a little angsty, and thinks about Ori, and this is all Fili's fantasies, because Fili thinks he's doing a bad thing, but he beats himself up for that too so..., but it's unrequited, but like no one is there or anywhere near so..., jerking off in potentially public places, while he jerks off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5234348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayForWerewolves/pseuds/GayForWerewolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili is having a hard time dealing with his lust for his friend, made all the more worse because Ori seems completely unaware. Fili takes care of it the only way he knows how, jerking off in a deserted hallway. Maybe not the brightest of ideas but Fili is desperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's better to burn

**Author's Note:**

> There was a list of Fili-centric plots on tumblr. One was "Fili in ~~love~~ lust" and this idea popped into my head.

Fíli watched heatedly as Ori helped his brothers hoist a large chunk of broken statue into a cart to be wheeled to where the rest of the rubble was being dumped either to be reused for something new or salvaged if at all possible. Erebor was reclaimed, Thorin officially sat as King Under the Mountain, and everyone was helping to clean up the place as much as possible before their people started arriving to resettle their home. The Ri family, with their seemingly unnatural strength, were assigned to rubble duty and Fíli was finding himself very contented that most of the larger and heavier broken pieces were also in the same room where he was making molds of cracks that needed to be seamed up with metal ore.

Ori bent to pick up some smaller pieces of stone and Fíli felt a rush of lust shoot like lightning down his spine. He stared, but attempted to make it less obvious as he stood off to the side, hoping his face was in enough of a shadow. Fíli knew that his mold was done setting but he pretended it wasn’t, watching Ori instead.

Everyone knew the Ri’s were gorgeous. Dori, with his beautiful mithril hair and beard done up in intricate braids and who was so strong that he could probably lift Dwalin over his head if he got the right angle. Fíli had seen him break a stone in his bare hand several weeks prior and was now acutely aware of why and how Dori had a reputation of having so many lovers. What dwarf in their right mind would say no to someone as amazing as that? Nori was the sort of beautiful that was kind of terrifying. Like a flower that you knew was poisonous, or the most beautiful of well crafted knives. Would he seduce you and give you the most wild night of your life, or stab you in the leg and steal all your valuables? It was up in the air, really, as Nori was a master of play acting. There were rumors that Nori made money by selling his body but Fíli didn’t know if they were true or just something unkind that people said about him. But with a beautiful face and an unpredictable nature like Nori’s, Fíli could believe that it was possible, even if he didn’t want to.

Then there was Ori. Fíli would readily admit that all the Ri’s were beautiful. He’d have to be blind or stupid to not notice such a stunning family, specially when they all clustered together. It was a little overwhelming. But Ori, Ori was something else. Ori wasn’t uptight and prissy like his eldest brother, or sneaky and impossible to read like Nori, he was sweet and honest and open and just so _gorgeous_. Fíli felt entirely too warm and itchy when Ori turned, saw him looking, and smiled and waved. Fíli waved back.

Ori was called over to help Nori with an oddly shaped boulder that was once a statue’s head and Fíli shook his own head to clear it. Fíli’s mold was beyond done hardening and he had a minute of panic as he tried to wedge it out of the crack. It came free eventually and he placed it carefully on top of the wheelbarrow with the other molds to take back to the forges where iron, silver, and even some gold patches were being forged then cooled to just malleable enough that they wouldn’t become misshapen but could still be wedged as snug as possible and fuse into the cracks to make them stable. The trek down to the forges was a long one and it gave Fíli ample time to think.

His lusty thoughts about Ori were becoming a problem. They had been present during the quest, yes, but dimmed as the importance of the quest and desire to make his uncle proud had outweighed everything. But now that the most pressing matter at hand was how to make the mountain hospitable for dwarves again, that freed up a lot of time and a lot of space in his mind for his troubling thoughts about Ori.

It wasn’t a problem that he had the thoughts, really, or that they were about Ori. Everyone would understand, Ori was beautiful, the kind of dwarf that many people dreamed of being with. It was that Ori seemed completely oblivious to how Fíli felt, or even of his own attractiveness. Ori would bend over without a care, very close to Fíli, to pick up something he had dropped (usually a book or scroll of some sort), and smile his shy and lovely little smile when he stood back up and Fíli’s blood would run hot. He would excitedly grab Fílis hand with his slender, yet strong, ink stained fingers (they were, after all, good friends now, and good friends could be physically intimate) and drag him to see something new and wonderful that he had discovered while exploring their newly reclaimed mountain. And Fíli still felt a powerful flash of heat and want every time that Ori stuck the tip of his tongue out of his mouth in concentration while he sketched in his little book.

Fíli knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself. He thought about Ori at night when the lanterns were extinguished, and he was lying in his new bed chambers, surrounded by old furs and fabrics, since aired out in the sun to take the staleness out of them and washed with a floral smelling soap, purchased from the former men of Laketown now Dale. He would throw his head back against the perfumed pillows and imagine that it was those beautiful soft scribe’s hands wrapped around his cock instead of his own sword and forge hardened ones. His fantasies involving Ori were varied and many.

Sometimes Fíli’s fantasy Ori would be shy and sweet, and they would kiss softly while slowly tugging each other off, trading soft cries, moans, and whispers of affection in the shared air between them. Other times Ori was wanton and wild in Fíli’s fantasies, aware of his own beauty and not afraid to flaunt it and use it to his own best advantage. Usually those fantasies involved Ori riding him down into the mattress, Fíli helpless to do anything but cling to his thighs as Ori bounced happily on his cock. But most of his fantasies were somewhere in between: Ori showing Fíli how he could take his cock entirely down his throat, burying his beautiful nose in the golden curls at the base; Ori under him, hips spread wide, thighs clinging to Fíli’s sides and hands buried in his hair as Fili fucked him good; and sometimes he would just imagine how Ori would look, spread out over his blankets and furs, neck covered in marks from where Fíli had sucked that glorious skin into his mouth, a sheen of sweat over his entire body and flushing with heat almost entirely down his soft chest to his rosey peaked nipples. Fíli had entire fantasies involving nothing but running his tongue over and sucking on those nipples until Ori couldn’t take it any longer and begged to be fucked.

Fíli stopped in a deserted passageway and set the wheelbarrow down. Thinking about it, he had wound himself up and it was starting to get painful walking with an erection. He leaned against the wall and loosened his belt. No one would be coming down this hall any time soon, Bofur and Kili had been helping him with crack repairs on previous days but Bofur was on guard duty with Dwalin today and Kili was helping run supplies back and forth in the forges. Fíli ran his hand down his body, pressing against the cold metal of the small silver ring through his left nipple, rubbing over it briefly through his thin tunic before moving further south. Fíli shut his eyes and hissed through his teeth at the first touch of his own hand, shoved into the open vee of the loosened laces on his breeches.

Fíli squeezed around the base and slowly brought his hand up the shaft to rub his thumb over the already leaking head. He shuddered and bit his lip to keep quiet. The hall was abandoned but his voice could still echo off the stone and who knew how far it could reach. Fíli picked his favorite fantasy for when he couldn’t take his raging lust any longer and had to sneak off to a dark alcove and imagined his sweet, lovely Ori on his knees in front of him. Ori would look beautiful on his knees, still clothed, wrapped in his comfortable knitwear. Not for the first time Fíli wondered if it would feel good if Ori jerked him off with his fingerless gloves still on, his gentle fingers a distinct contrast to the ridges of the knitted fabric, and Fíli’s cock twitched and leaked more precome in his hand as he started pumping at a brutal pace. 

Fíli wanted to know what Ori looked like with a cock in his mouth. He bet it was a beautiful sight, flush high on his cheeks, eyelashes fluttering against them as he took as much of Fíli’s cock down his throat as he could. Fíli would bury his hands in Ori’s hair, playing with the pretty little braids and ribbons, petting him, telling him all sorts of encouraging things, grabbing rough and tight and pulling if Ori was into that. Fíli was close, the rough pace of his snapping wrist and his lusty fantasies pushing him close to the edge quickly. He pictured Ori looking up at him, eyes full of heat and affection as he pressed his tongue to the underside of Fíli’s dick and swallowed around him. Ori would be perfect, he’d be beautiful, cute, sexy, everything that Fíli wanted and needed.

Fíli spilled over his hand, the last fantasy image flashing through his mind was what Ori would look like, face all covered in Fíli’s come, marked as his. His orgasm felt like being headbutted in the stomach by a warg and Fíli sunk slowly to the ground, back still pressed to the wall, head between his knees. He breathed harshly. As he came down he felt guilty, he always did. Ori wasn’t his, they were just friends, he didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, even if it was just fantasy. Fíli was ashamed of himself.

He dragged his hand out of his breeches, making a face at the mess he had made on his fingers, he grabbed the clay stained rag that he used to clean the cracks of residue when making molds from where it hung from his wheelbarrow and wiped his seed on it. He folded the cloth over and threw it back into the barrow as he stood on slightly shaky legs. Fíli looked down at his undone belt and the laces of his breeches and sighed. He needed to stop doing this. He needed to stop being so hot for his friend who was just that, his friend.

Fíli started making his way down the passageway to the forges again, able to hear the fires roaring and the muffled voices of the dwarves working hard. He heard Kíli as he laughed at something someone said, most likely some sort of awful joke that he would retell to Fíli later through stifled laughter, and his thoughts were pulled from where he was beating himself up for his lust over Ori. The forge was always a good distraction from most of life’s worries and Fíli wondered if he could squeeze in some time with a hammer in his hand (and not his hammer in his hand) and help them create the patches for the cracks. It would go faster.

Kíli turned when he heard Fíli set his heavy wheelbarrow down and beamed at him, handing the large metal tongs he was holding over to the dwarf he had been joking with and made his way over to Fíli with a skip in his step. Fíli smiled back, his littler brother, face smudged with soot, sleeves rolled up for better movement, and a leather apron tied around his neck and waist. Kíli was at his happiest when he had some job to do, and Fíli loved seeing his brother happy. He pushed all thought of anything but spending some quality time in the forge with Kíli from his mind. But before he did a small voice in the back of his head reminded him that at night, in the dark, his mind would turn back to Ori.

**Author's Note:**

> potentially there will be some follow up fics to this one but this is pretty good as a stand alone so here it is.


End file.
